We know that spring has arrived in Mexico City when street carts crowned with whole mangoes begin to roll into town. While wandering the Centro Histórico’s bustling streets just last week, we bumped into Maria, a seasonal worker whose cart is currently laden with this favorite springtime fruit. Intrigued, we stopped to watch as she deftly skewered the mango in her hand with a stick, peeled off the skin, made decorative cuts to transform the bright orange flesh into a beautiful flower, which she then brushed with chamoy, a classic Mexican sauce, and dipped in one of the brightly colored powders stored in plastic boxes: salsa tajín, chamoy, salt, chile or everything mixed together.

Cafe Allende’s manager, Roberto Hernandez, stands behind the counter, serving customers pan chino out of a display case grown foggy from the warmth of the fresh pastries inside. “The idea was to come and study, finish school, and work as a technical engineer. But it didn’t work out that way. This pulled me in,” he says, gesturing around the cafe. “Now it's my life.” Roberto had come to Mexico City as a boy, moving in with a sister 20 years his senior and her husband, Jesús Chew, a Chinese immigrant and the owner of Cafe Allende. Welcomed into their family as another son, Roberto worked at the cafe and spent many evenings with Jesús, learning Mexican-Chinese recipes like the varieties of pan chino, which means “Chinese bread” in Spanish.

We spoke to Joe Yonan, the James Beard Award-winning food and dining editor of The Washington Post, about his cookbook, Cool Beans: The Ultimate Guide to the World's Most Versatile Plant-Based Protein. And he provided us with a recipe for his garlicky great northern beans and broccoli rabe over toast. The humble bean plays a starring role in many of the culinary cultures we cover, as evidenced by our “Bean Week” series, which included dispatches from Catalonia, Beijing, Mexico, Greece and Istanbul. So we were delighted to talk to Joe about this delicious, versatile and environmentally friendly protein, one that has gained new prominence in the current pandemic.

Visiting the Jamaica plant and flower market is one of our favorite activities in Mexico City; we love getting lost in its green alleys and never fail to emerge with at least one new plant and a beautiful bouquet of flowers. And of course, we’re always on the lookout for new places to eat. Our favorite barbacoa joint is in this market, but when we want a different experience we head to the huarache alley, where several stalls offer this tasty Mexican specialty.

Barbacoa – pit-roasted lamb or goat – is a Mexico City weekend essential. Stands pop up all over the city on Saturdays and Sunday selling the soft-as-butter meat on a warm tortilla, topped with a sprinkling of cilantro and raw onion and one of the many smoky salsas that generally accompany this dish. Even more, barbacoa broth is a well-known hangover cure, among the ranks of menudo (tripe soup) and pozole (hominy and meat soup). Before the city’s Roma neighborhood became the hip, bohemian mecca that it is now, Moises and Norma Rodriguez opened El Hidalguense, an unassuming spot on one of the neighborhood’s quieter streets. Now, 30 years later, it is known far and wide for roasting some of the best barbacoa in the city.

“You can’t call yourself Mexican if you don’t eat rosca de reyes,” jokes Rafa Rivera, head baker and owner of Forte Bread and Coffee in Mexico City. Distracted, he stops grating orange peel long enough to muse about the king’s cake he is making. Only 29, he already has several businesses under his belt, and is about to open a second Forte location in Colonia Juarez. Rafa opened the flagship Forte in the Roma Norte neighborhood, serving up delicious pastries and coffee, with beans from Pólvora Coffee Roasters – where his brother Julián is the lead roaster. (In 2017, Julián won first prize in the Mexican Brewers Cup Championship with his Pólvora beans.)

The year 2021 has been as unpredictable as 2020. At its start, we were thinking the lockdowns had run their course, only to be mistaken. Once restrictions were lifted, it still took several months for businesses to fully reopen. As is the story the world over, many restaurants, street stands, eateries and markets could not make it and have closed their doors permanently. We lost many people; some were dear friends who could not afford to stop working during the lockdowns – either their businesses were considered essential or the income was needed at home. Knowing that, we in Mexico City took what opportunities we could to celebrate life and its continuation in the shadow of the pandemic.

Editor’s note: Alfonso Cuarón’s film “Roma,” set in Mexico City between 1970 and 1971, is expected to win big at the Oscars this weekend – it’s up for ten awards. To celebrate the movie’s success, we’re republishing our 2013 review of La Casa del Pavo, where the main character, Cleo, goes to have a sandwich with her co-worker on their day off and meet up with their boyfriends. Not only is this spot one of the few from the film that is still in business, it is almost completely unchanged. The bird that holds pride of place at the Thanksgiving table has just as important a role south of the border. Turkey has actually been a fundamental part of Mexican cooking for centuries: The Aztecs had domesticated the fowl before they had even laid eyes on a chicken.

We recently spoke with Mexican chef Pati Jinich about her new cookbook, Treasures of the Mexican Table: Classic Recipes, Local Secrets (Mariner Books; November, 2021). Pati is host of the James Beard Award winning and Emmy nominated public television series Pati's Mexican Table and has published two other cookbooks on Mexican cuisine – the first also called Pati's Mexican Table (Mariner Books; March 2013) and the second, Mexican Today (Mariner Books; April 2016). She is also the host of the new PBS Primetime special La Frontera, where she travels along the Texas-Mexico border to explore its food and culture.

“Caliente!” Juan calls out, and we all duck to avoid the steaming hot pan as it floats across the kitchen. He holds one side with a folded up towel, the other with a pair of pliers. Kitchen might be a bit of a misnomer. The small stall sits on the sidewalk, with a temporary tin roof overhead and brand new white tarps tied tightly to the back to protect against Mexico City’s afternoon thunderstorms. Each day for the three weeks leading up to Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead holiday, Tito Garcia, the stand’s owner, and the rest of the crew, will make hundreds of pan de muerto sweet rolls, as part of the Jamaica Market’s holiday romería.

Many years ago, a young Juan Luis Silis started working at a taco stand a block from home. Not only did Don Ignacio Ramírez, aka Don Nacho, the taco master, become Juan Luis’ employer, he became a kind of second father to the young man. It was under Don Nacho that Juan Luis learned how hard you must work and persevere to achieve your goals. In 2009, Juan Luis (who is now 40 years old) took off his apron and stepped into the distinctive traje de luces (suit of lights) of the torero. While working at the taco stand under Don Nacho, he had also been stomping his way towards achieving his true dream, that of becoming a professional bullfighter. He trained under the famous matador Mariano Ramos.

Has mezcal gone the way of avocado toast, an item that’s become shorthand for cliched hipster trendiness? If you think yes, a visit to Mis Mezcales in Mexico City’s Colonia Roma may be in order. There, you will find Omar Trejo sitting behind his unassuming makeshift bar, parceling out sips to the uninitiated and reminding everyone who stops by his small liquor store devoted to small-batch Mexican distillates that before it became a “buzzy” spirit, mezcal was an elixir heavily-rooted in the soils and stories of Mexico. As Omar makes clear to those who come in, every bottle of mezcal tastes different, even from the same brand, the same agave variety and same year. It’s one of the drink’s greatest strengths and probably one of the greatest frustrations for drinkers who expect the standardization of tequila.

San Diego de la Mesa Tochimiltzingo may not be the prettiest pueblo around, but people who know their mezcal certainly know about this town in the state of Puebla. Just three hours southeast of Mexico City, the pueblo is tiny and unprepossessing, tucked into the Atlixco Valley in the Sierra Mixteca. Almost all of its 1,000 residents work in mezcal. No one can say for certain when mezcal production started there. When we asked, several mezcaleros (mezcal makers) debated for a while before agreeing it was some time in the 1800s. After more discussion, they finally zeroed in on the year 1864, though how and why they settled on the date remains a mystery. Mezcalero Silvistre Reyes admits, “No one really knows.”

Black ice cream is not an easy sell, but Jose Luis Cervantes, AKA Joe Gelato, is a persuasive guy. It’s not just his million-dollar smile or easygoing nature, but also the passion that he clearly feels for his gelato. “Before I went to Italy, I knew about the concept of gelato,” says Jose, “but I had no idea how good it would be. I had only tasted what was available in Mexico at time. I went there and felt the fat in my mouth, the sugars, I can’t explain it – I love it. I love the whole culture around gelato.”

After a long, hot day of shopping (locals) or visiting museums (tourists) in Mexico City’s Centro Histórico, La Azotea rooftop restaurant may seem like a mirage at first. Located on the terrace of Barrio Alameda, a boutique mall and Mexican Art Déco building that was charmingly restored several years ago, La Azotea looks out over green trees, colonial bell towers, blue-tiled cupolas and the avant-garde buildings of Mexico City’s center and Alameda Central park. This oasis is for real, says its bartender, Ángel Salatiel Flores (32), who is quenching people’s thirst with more than just sparkling water. Dating back to the 1920s, the Barrio Alameda building was constructed by a German doctor and soon after became a professional services buildings for folks like lawyers and accountants.